


Shock(s) from Another World

by Insomnia_in_Portland



Category: Magic School Bus, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe- Superheroes/Superpowers, Alternate Universe-Timeline/What Timeline?, BUS is a Global Entity, Clint and Nat are Scientists, Director!Frizzle, Facepalming Will Ensue, Gen, Hero!Darcy, Taser!Darcy, The Nonsense She Puts Up With
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 22:53:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9293048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insomnia_in_Portland/pseuds/Insomnia_in_Portland
Summary: In her world, Taser has long been given up for dead.The Director of BUS and three of Taser's loved ones are about to find out that is far from the truth.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. I hope you're enjoying nicer weather than we poor souls over here in Oregon.
> 
> Anyway, here is another Taser!Darcy fic. Know there will be plenty of nonsense in this. The end chapter will also be familiar to anyone who actually read it before I deleted it.

“Director Frizzle?”

“Yes, BUS?”

“Ms. Terese has arrived and is being directed to the elevator. Doctors Barton and Romanov are with her.”

The Director rubbed her hands together, face illuminated with delight. “Excellent! Please speed them down here, BUS! I’m eager to find out what your big surprise is.”

“All will be revealed soon, Director,” said BUS with a note of smugness. 

The Director perked as she heard the familiar whoosh of the elevator coming together. She glanced down at herself, eyeballing her dress for stains. The plan had been to spend the day packing for her trip to Greece to visit her counterpart with the Rescue Aid Society. Alas, an attempted lunch ended in a cataclysm involving meatballs and pesto sauce crashing onto her and a pile of clean clothes. As she was hurriedly rushing everything to the washer, the familiar bells of her Red Phone went off. Those bells meant a serious matter had arisen at BUS. Sighing, she dropped her clothes into a basket and ran to it. 

The text message she received was from BUS. The eldest of the organization’s three AIs, he had his set of assigned tasks that kept him very busy. If a matter arose, it was usually TRIP or LIZ who notified her. The fact that BUS was contacting her raised her brows miles-high. She read the message with deep bewilderment.

_RETURN TO HQ ASAP! CONTACT PHOEBE TERESE AND DRS. BARTON AND ROMANOV TO HAVE THEM COME, TOO! MEET IN TIME ROOM FOR SURPRISE! BUS_.

After a pause, the Director sent a text back: **Please specify nature of surprise**.

All BUS did was repeat his message, adding bold text and multiple underlines to try to stress the nature of the “surprise.” After a moment, the Director did as BUS requested. She called all three listed and, unable to reach them, left messages for them. Once done, she glanced down at her messy self and went to change. She returned to headquarters in a lime-green dress with banana-hued skulls and yogurt-pink sandals. (It was a testament to her agents’ affection for her that none batted an eyelash at her dress.) A trip in her private elevator had her descending to the darkened Time Room. Upon arrival, she was greeted by warm drone that was BUS’ voice. She immediately asked what was so urgent.

“All will be revealed in due time, Director,” was the response. “We must wait for our guests as they must hear this, too. Have you heard from them?”

“I left my phones at home,” replied the Director. “I wasn’t able to reach anyone earlier.”

A faint whirring alerted her to the presence of TRIP. “I checked your phone logs and messages,” he said, voice addled from sleep-mode. “Ms. Terese has called and says she will be arriving shortly with the doctors, but there is an issue with both that is most unusual.”

“I hope it’s nothing serious,” said the Director with some concern. She liked the two scientists.

TRIP yawned. “She didn’t specify. All she said was that they’re still themselves, just… not themselves. LIZ is monitoring the traffic cams. Ms. Terese is currently taking I-13 to HQ. LIZ says traffic is smooth. ETA is 20 minutes.”

The Director cast a smile up at the ceiling. “Thanks, LIZ!” A cheery chime was her reply from the BUS’ sole female AI. Looking around, the Director added, “Please get the lights. I don’t want them tripping.”

She began walking around as a series of gently fuzzy lights began erupting throughout the room. They created the impression of distant galaxies twinkling in the night sky. After a few moments, the lights began to slowly increase in size. Their luminosity grew only slightly, but it was enough to illuminate the room. The Director nodded as the Time Room came into being. It was a cavernous space of large tiles from ceiling to floor. The light they emitted was reminiscent of a strong nightlight. Combined, they were enough to reveal the room. The Director nodded approvingly as she surveyed the area. Every tile was lit, meaning everything was in order. All that was left was to wait for Phoebe and her guests to arrive. That also meant she had time to ponder what the surprise could be.

In today’s world, surprises were no longer such. Things that would usually shock were now so routine that they failed to illicit normal responses. The latest incident had been the violent attack and capture of Paris’ two heroes. A grey-skinned man had gone on a rampage, earning the attention of the heroes Ladybug and Chat Noir. What had started out so promisingly had ended so horribly. No Lucky Charm or Cataclysm could save the two young heroes. The being destroyed them, decorating the street with their blood. Attempts by local police and Special Forces to assist were met with failure. Witnesses could only watch as the man slung the fallen heroes on his shoulders and disappeared in a shimmering scarlet haze. The uproar this caused was tremendous. No one could find the two. BUS, the Rescue Aid Society, and other organizations were still searching. (The only thing of note was the fact Adrien Agreste, a prominent young model, had disappeared the day Ladybug and Chat Noir fell. It bothered the Director that the media cared little that his classmate, Marinette, had also gone missing. She issued an official order to her agents to remind them BOTH were priority searches.) 

Ladybug and Chat Noir were not an isolated incident. In fact, they were part of a string of incidents seemingly designed to destabilize world order. BUS and the Rescue Aid Society were the only organizations to realize there was something behind all the madness. Something was rising and no one knew what it was. For all the terror, though, there were glimmers of goodness. Heroes were coming out of the shadows. They were becoming a shield against the rising wave of darkness. The Grey Lady of London was the most prominent. A sorceress hooded and robed, her heroics put her on BUS’ watch-list as an ally. The Director sighed. Gods knew the world needed all the allies it could get. 

A dry groan alerted her to the arrival of the elevator. She looked up to see a portion of the corner ceiling gone and a series of tiles rapidly form into a white column that touched the floor. A pink light slowly crept down, disappearing when it touched the floor. 

“Phoebe and guests to see you, Director,” intoned BUS gravely.

“Remove the tiles,” said the Director as she scampered over the elevator.

The tiles promptly began retracting upward. They moved slowly at first, minding the occupants within. Once they were past the six-foot mark, the tiles speedily ascended into the ceiling. Once the column was inside, the ceiling tiles were promptly set into their proper spots, returning the ceiling to normal.

“Huh,” said Phoebe, staring upward.

“PHOEBE!”

Phoebe looked down just in time to be swept into her old teacher’s arms for a strong embrace. She stiffened in surprise before wrapping her arms around Director Frizzle in response. After a moment, old teacher and student released each other. They took a moment to assess the other. 

Phoebe smiled as she took in the Director’s attire. It brought back fond memories of the wacky attire the Director as a teacher. With her wild coppery locks piled high like a frizzy crown, Director Frizzle was a perfect image of the past. Only a careful look revealed time’s embrace. The lines around her brilliant eyes were more pronounced. Little flecks of silver could be glimpsed amidst the sea of coppery hair. Her spry body was slightly heavier. Her kind smile and iconic personality remained untouched.

The Director beamed as she analyzed her former pupil. Her sweetest student had grown into a slender young woman of similar temperament, but dissimilar looks. Phoebe was now the tallest of the girls from her year. (At 6’1”, she was third behind Ralphie and Tim in height.) Her boots added nothing to her height. Her jeans, cream-colored sweater, and red jacket highlighted a lithe physique. Her brown hair was swept back into a simple ponytail; its dark hue complimented her sun-kissed skin nicely. There was one glaring difference. A pair of dark, thick-rimmed glasses covered her eyes. They were a reminder of the health problems that plagued Phoebe since high school. The disease that had taken her father’s sight was slowly consuming hers. 

Phoebe, noticing her old teacher’s dimming joy, realized what the cause was. She tapped her glasses. “Everything’s still the same. I have a doctor’s appointment next week to check.”

The Director smiled softly. “Let me know how it goes. I can get you into that clinic with a phone call.”

Phoebe chuckled. “Thank you, but I’ll see how things go first.”

The Director looked around, smile fading slightly. “Where are Doctors Romanov and Barton?”

At this, Phoebe’s expression became impish. She pointed downward. The Director looked down. Phoebe watched her eyes widen in disbelief. The other blinked once, then twice, then rubbed her eyes, opened them and stared open-mouthed.

“How?” she breathed.

“It was Clint’s fault,” Natalia replied blandly.

“Why is everything MY fault?” Clint demanded.

“Everything’s always your fault.”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t MY fault you hit me when I was cleaning.”

“Well, YOU were supposed to be paying attention to the pressure gages.”

“You’re Pokémon,” whispered the Director as she squatted down to assess her guests.

The good doctors continued arguing over who was at fault while the Director studied them. Neither paid heed to being touched and turned, squished and rubbed. The Director looked up at an amused Phoebe and mouthed, _Really_? Phoebe nodded. The Director, wide-eyed, looked at the squabbling doctors and sat back on her haunches. Both Natalia and Clint wore their trademark lab-coats (polka-dot for the latter and scarlet for the former). Natalia even boasted a full head of luscious ruby locks. Both, though, had been squished into two new forms that were basically identical to their animated forms. Though she tried, even the Director could not mentally spin this to seem normal. 

Natalia Romanov was now a squishy, adorably cross Jigglypuff and Clint Barton was the smuggest-looking chibified Gengar she had ever seen.

“How did this happen?” she managed to force out.

The doctors stopped arguing and turned to face the Director.

“To be honest, I have no idea,” said Clint. “All I know was that I was cleaning after experimenting with plutonium rods and Nat decided to scare me-“

“Baloney!” spat Natalia, glaring daggers with her big bluebell eyes. “I came into your lab because the hydrogen sensors were going off like crazy! YOU were too busy dancing around to pay attention! All I was trying to do was get your attention!”

“You whacked me on the ass and made me trip into the gold experiment!” snapped Clint. “The next thing I know, there’s a huge flash of red light and I’m suddenly a Gengar and you’re a Jigglypuff!”

Natalia rolled her eyes. “You should’ve been monitoring the pressure gages, but NOOOOO! You were too busy dancing around to Duran Duran!”

Phoebe and the Director stared at the two as they continued to squabble. After a moment, the two realized they were being stared at. They stopped arguing and looked up. “What?” asked Clint.

The Director sighed. “Oh my! This is certainly not was I was expecting!” A pensive look fell over her face. “Do you still have all of your faculties?”

Natalia drew herself up and gravely uttered, “Director Frizzle, we may be short and adorable, but we’re still perfectly capable lunatics.”

“That’s good to hear,” said BUS suddenly, startling all. Only the Director caught his vaguely annoyed tone.

“Oh, I’m sorry, BUS,” cried the Director. She looked at the visitors. “Please follow me.”

Phoebe and the doctors followed the Director as she walked into the room. They looked around, surveying the space with keen eyes.

“Where are we?” asked Phoebe.

The Director spun around. Her eyes glinted with that energy Phoebe knew from her school days. She threw arms wide. “Welcome to the Time Room!”

“Time Room?” echoed the doctors.

“The Time Room!” repeated the Director, beaming. “We’re a certain number of stories below HQ. It’s one of our organization’s little secrets.”

“What exactly does it do?” asked Clint, looking around. 

The Director laughed. “It’s a room where we can conduct a basic form of time travel called temporal viewing.”

“Wait!” said Natalia. Her expression was adorably curious. “I thought the tech for that sort of thing was banned.”

The Director laughed again, this time the sound carried a note of joy. “Only to the public. Those of us in the government sector had full access to it.”

“So it’s nothing like that field trip we took to see the dinosaurs?” asked Phoebe, ignoring the gasps from the doctors.

The Director shook her head. “Nope! This is more like stepping into a movie and watching it unfold. All of you will be able to experience it first-hand now that you’re here”

“Why have we been brought here?” asked Clint. “Your message said something about a surprise.”

The Director shrugged. “To be honest, BUS is the one that brought us all here. He has a surprise for all of us and I honestly have no clue what it could be, so I’ll hand things off to him. BUS?”

“Thank you, Director Frizzle,” said BUS politely. “First off, I apologize for the secrecy, but I felt it appropriate given what I wish to tell you. If you permit me, I’d like to explain offer a brief explanation first. It will help you understand the surprise.”

“Okay,” uttered Phoebe as she and the doctors looked askance at each other.

BUS continued. “I’m sure all of you are aware that a very important anniversary is approaching.” Upon seeing their confused looks, he sighed. “Two weeks from now, it’ll be the anniversary of the Battle.”

For the briefest of moments, confusion filled each listener. Realization quickly replaced it, reminding them all of the full meaning of the event. Three years ago, the world had lost one of its best heroes in a disaster that remained one of the most watched events in modern history. The villainous Mr. Rhodes had initiated a plan to destroy his home city to get back at his old friend, Mayor Stark. A cadre of super-powered lieutenants and allies led the charge. Steve Rogers, James Barnes, Thor Odinson, Jane Foster, and Jemma Simmons were eager to let loose. The villains, joined by thousands of thugs, were told to destroy and destroy they did. The city devolved into pure chaos. Efforts by the police and military were no match against an army that did not fear them. It took the arrival of the city’s hero to tip the balance.

The hero was Taser. 

Taser’s arrival hours into the chaos reminded the villains they still had her to deal with. Every villain, from Rogers to the lowliest thug, converged on her. Logic dictated victory for the villains due to sheer numbers. Taser slapped logic silly and proceeded to remind everyone why she was an icon among their world’s superheroes. Two painful facts soon became apparent in the battle that erupted. The first was that she was playing on their level. Be it mass electrocution or smashing hubcaps into jaws, she dealt out efficient brutality. It was enough that many thugs began fleeing in terror. The second was the simplest.

The villains would only achieve victory by prying it out of Taser’s cold, dead, armored hands.   
And she was still standing. 

The Director remembered that day well. She ordered every available unit to the city to assist. Taser had been an ally to BUS. It was only right that BUS return the favor. She only regretted that BUS failed when Taser needed help the most. 

Phoebe remembered that day well. It had been the day she lost her cousin. Darcy Lewis had called her some hours before Taser’s appearance to tell Phoebe she loved her and that she was the best cousin a girl could want. After that, all of Phoebe’s increasingly worried calls were met with silence. Some days afterward, Phoebe realized Darcy was one of dozens missing. 

Clint and Natalia remembered that day well. Darcy had snuck out of her hospital room to enter the battle. Both scolded her from the main lab as they monitored her vitals during the battle. An encounter with Thor had fried some of her communications systems, leaving her unable to hear them. They, however, could hear everything. And they heard it all, from the melee against Rogers and co. to those horrendous final moments in the warehouse. Neither had been able to enter the main lab since.

TRIP, observing their bewilderment, remarked to BUS, “I think you broke ‘em.”

LIZ chimed in agreement.

Natalia shook her head. “We’re fine, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“It has everything to do with it as it pertains to the fate of Taser,” said BUS snootily.

Silence fell over the listeners as they processed this. Differing emotions filled them. Confusion made Phoebe ponder. She had no tie to Taser, so why was it important she hear this? Taser was dead. For Clint and Natalia, curiosity violently quashed the tendril of wonder that dared rear its head. They had long abandoned the idea Darcy somehow, someway, survived. The Director, though, was puzzled. Fixing the ceiling with a firm look, she asked:

“BUS, why is Taser’s fate important now?” 

BUS hesitated. He knew full well the reaction his next words would illicit. LIZ issued a series of calm chimes and beeps.

“I agree,” said TRIP. “Best rip off the Band-Aid, dude.”

“All right.” BUS took a breath before speaking. “The fate of Taser is incorrect.”

The reactions were slow coming, but unsurprising when they came.

“What do you mean ‘incorrect!’” cried Natalia.

“Are you seriously saying Taser’s alive?” demanded Clint.

“But they never found a body,” said Phoebe more to herself.

“BUS, how can you say Taser’s fate is incorrect?” asked the Director firmly. “You know as well as I do that we combed that warehouse thoroughly. We found nothing. No armor, no bone fragments, nothing!”

BUS sighed. “Director, her fate is incorrect because we were looking in expected places. We did not think to consider unexpected places.”

“Hold on,” said Clint. He was rubbing his face with his little arms. “I just want to be clear on something.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Are you seriously saying that Taser might be alive?”

The other listeners looked up at the ceiling, waiting for the response.

“It’s not a possibility, Dr. Barton,” said BUS. “Taser is alive.”


End file.
